Pretty Girl, 6/9/2011

This is a little story about a pretty girl, who was wearing a pretty dress:

The dress wasn’t particularly short, and she was very casual about the way she wore it…

Seeing that she had no qualms about lifting her leg made me wonder if she was in full compliance with the Dress Code. So I asked her if she wouldn’t mind proving she was being a good girl. She knew just what I meant by that, and was happy to show me.

I started to say, you have a lovely, um… “It’s OK,” she said. “I’m happy to prove that I’m a good girl. Are you satisfied? You don’t seem satisfied. Maybe you think I’m trying to trick you?”

No, no, it’s not that at all, I said. But before I had a chance to stop her, she showed me her butt.

Wow! I said. Then: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. “It’s OK,” she said. “I’m sure you’re just happy to see that I’m a good girl, right?” Am I ever! Did I say that out loud? I hope not…

“Listen,” she said looking up and down the long corridor in which we stood, “there’s no one else around, and, well, I was just wondering if you would mind if I…”

Whatever it is, I said, I’m sure I won’t mind.

“Oh, thank you,” she said. “I’ve just been couped up in this dress all morning, and I need to relax!”

Without another word, she took off her dress, and turned to go. Did she want me to follow her? I wasn’t sure, but I followed her anyway, she was just so darn cute!

She sat on her dress, using it as a mat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to do,” she said, and there’s no one around, which is good, because I’m a little shy doing it in public.

Whatever it is, I said, you needn’t be shy. You’re a beautiful girl, and I dare say even more beautiful now. Now that you’re naked, I thought. And drop dead gorgeous!

“You’re sweet,” she said, and paused, looking up at me. “So you don’t mind if I…?”

Go right ahead, I said.

“Oh, thank you!”

“I’m happy to have a chance to relieve my tension between classes.”

There’s nothing wrong with that, I told her. I could see in her face that she was on the brink of cumming, so I stopped talking to her, and let her take care of things. Before long, she relaxed, letting her pretty legs fall apart, her knees practically on the ground. She set the vibrator down, and closed her eyes for just a moment.

After she finished, she put her dress back on, but her legs were still a bit wobbly, so she sat down, and blushed. God, she was pretty.

I held out my hand to help her to her feet.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

There’s nothing to be sorry about, I said, truly at a loss to think what she might have meant. Was she sorry to have masturbated in front of me? Or to have fallen and needed help getting back on her feet? Or maybe she was just embarrassed that her pussy was red and puffy, and a little moist as well. In any case, I told her there was something she could do to make it up to me, if she really wanted to be nice.

“Sure,” she said cheerfully. “What would you like me to do?”

It’s nothing, really. Forget I said anything.

“No,” she insisted. “You’ve been very sweet to me. I’ll do anything you like.”

I didn’t want to be mean to her by now withholding my request, but I didn’t want to put her to any trouble, either. Finally I asked her: Would you mind just taking off your dress one more time, and letting me see you in all your beauty?

“Oh, of course!” she said. She stood up, and squeezed the shoulder straps of her dress together in preparation to remove it. I just about had an orgasm myself, she was so beautiful!

“Do you like my shoes?” she laughed.

Your shoes? I was struck dumb by her beauty in both senses of “dumb”, so didn’t even realize she was making a joke. She turned to leave, and did a “model walk”.

I hope I remembered to close my mouth, but I can’t say for sure, one way or the other, because there was just one thing I was thinking about as she walked away; it was the joy of glimpsing the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth.